


a reunion

by treacherousdoctors



Category: Radio Silence - Alice Oseman
Genre: Christmas, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treacherousdoctors/pseuds/treacherousdoctors
Summary: the janviers are having aled round for christmas. frances is waiting for him to arrive.
Relationships: Aled Last & Lana Janvier, Frances Janvier & Aled Last
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	a reunion

**Author's Note:**

> the title and summary of this are ,,, not the best but it’s 4am so allow it x yet another christmas one shot because i just really miss aled and frances’ friendship
> 
> sorry if they’re a bit ooc, and i’m not 100% sure this lines up with canon for the end of the book because it’s a while since my last reread but ! just a bit of wholesome fun really :^)
> 
> apologies for any weird formatting, typos, etc., i typed this one up on my phone

I haven't seen Aled Last in 107 days. That’s not so long, in the big scheme of things, but it feels like forever. Aled and I have the type of friendship where he’s pretty much bonded to my soul, and being away from him feels like I’m missing the left half of my body.

The last few months have been… strange. I’m taking a gap year to figure out what I want to do with my life, which means twelve more months at home with Mum - it’s wonderful, but it sucks being miles from London, where Aled is now living with Carys. I understand why he left. Every so often I’ll catch sight of Carol Last in the street and feel sick to my stomach, and I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to be Aled, to live with the ghosts of all she did lingering behind him everywhere he goes.

It was a surprise when he asked if he could do Christmas at mine.

Mum was happy to have him, almost quicker to say yes than I was. He brought it up casually, back when we visited him in September. Carys didn’t want to do Christmas (she hasn’t in years) and Aled didn’t want to crowd her all the time - he’s confided in me, during 3am chats, that he feels guilty for staying there, that he can’t help but see himself as a spanner in the works of her shiny new life. I’ve tried to tell him that’s not the case, and so has she, but I’m not entirely sure he believes either of us.

Despite all that, it’ll be nice to have him home.

I’ve been glancing out of the window every few minutes, though I know his train isn’t due into the station just yet, and he still has to walk. I think mostly I’m checking to be sure Carol’s car isn’t in the drive. Aled doesn’t want to see her, and I don’t blame him.

My house is mostly ready for Christmas now. Mum and I go mental with decorating as soon as Halloween is over, but this year I’ve also bought a mini tree and a box of decorations for my own room that Aled and I can decorate together. I want to give him an amazing Christmas, the best of his life, because it’s the first year he’s been away from his mum. He’ll be here three weeks, over Christmas and into the new year, and I honestly cannot  _ wait  _ to get back to normal, to how we were back before he went to uni.

Everything’s been… okay lately. He took a break from uni (though I’m pretty sure he won’t go back, and I think he’s sure too) to focus on himself. He moved in with Carys and her friends, started seeing a therapist and working on Universe City again. Things aren’t perfect, obviously, but the last time I saw him he seemed almost like himself again.

The doorbell rings a little before 4, just as the sun is setting, and I almost slip on the carpet in my haste to get to the door.

I fling the door open, unable to hide the grin on my face, and there he is. Aled Last, the most delightful boy on planet Earth, smiling at me like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. He drops his suitcase as I pull him into a hug.

“Hi.”

His voice is soft as ever, but I can hear his smile through it. Every time I hear him speak, a tiny whisper in the back in my mind reminds me that his are the words that talked me through some of my loneliest years, the voice that kept me company through so many sleepless nights.

“Hello!” I pull away from the hug to drink in the sight of him, and he looks me up and down the same way.

He’s in dungarees, an olive green corduroy pair I watched him buy when we went to Brighton in the summer. His jumper is red, patterned with little snowflakes and spaceships, and he has socks on that look like reindeer. The ends of his hair, shoulder-length and plaited, are dyed an icy silver-blue.

“Excellent outfit, Mx. Last. I approve.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Ms. Janvier.” He grins back.

My outfit is a lot more comfy than his - I’ve basically been in pyjamas all week - but, I have to admit, I do look pretty good. I managed to find a pair of royal blue leggings patterned with gingerbread men, and I’m wearing them with the fuzziest pair of socks I’ve ever found. My jumper is about eight million sizes too big, knitted for me by my aunt. It’s blue, purple, and pink stripes - an unintentional (I think) pride flag, but it’s still one of my favourite jumpers now.

“Mind if I come in?”

I step to the side, realising that I’ve left Aled standing on the front step in the biting cold for a good 90 seconds as I internally gush over the sight of him. I’ve been so happy to have him home that I forgot to invite him in.

He picks up his suitcase and follows me in, sliding his shoes off by the door. He seems at peace here almost immediately. 

Mum comes bounding down the stairs. 

“He’s here! Hello, darling!”

“Hi, Ms. Janvier!” He smiles, holding his arms out for a hug.

“I’ve told you a million times, you can call me Lana. Come here.” She pulls him in closely, and he seems to melt into her.

I wonder when the last time was that he had a good Mum Hug. They’re a special breed, those maternal embraces that make you feel as though the big scary world can never touch you. There’s a safety in them, one I hope Aled feels all the time, but all I know of the witch across the road suggests he’d never been held like this until he met my mum.

“Are you two going to get your little tree up? I was thinking we could get a pizza once you’re settled, Aled. That alright?”

He nods and thanks her, then reaches out for my hand and follows me up the stairs. I put his suitcase away under the desk for him and he stretches out on the bed, a serene smile stretching across his face.

“You alright? Getting comfy?”

He laughs a little through his reply. “It’s just good to be home.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this was alright !! maybe let me know what you thought?
> 
> as always, my tumblr is @charliespringverse if you’d like to chat/request/whatever :^)


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